


Porn Battle xi entry

by forochel



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-14
Updated: 2010-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-02 23:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forochel/pseuds/forochel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>originally posted <a href="http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/26521.html?thread=2991769#cmt2991769">here</a>. greatly indebted to <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_ohfetus"></span><a href="http://ohfetus.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://ohfetus.livejournal.com/"><b>ohfetus</b></a> for holding my hand and being encouraging about, oh, everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Porn Battle xi entry

Ray's coming down from the high of his dreams, that half-asleep half-conscious place where he feels weightless and pressed into the bed by a warm, heavy blanket at the same time. He stretches out, unconsciously reaching for the warmth of a body he has grown used to moulding himself around and against. There is nothing, but Ray's still buried under enough sleepiness to rest in that new sprawl and go back to sleep when his name said quietly pierces through that haze. Wrinkling his nose against the intrusion to the heavy quiet that had hitherto cocooned him in the slow process of waking up, Ray blinks his eyes open to see Walt sitting up halfway down their bed, quilts crinkled and pooled about his waist. He takes the time to admire the way the early morning sunlight filters through the curtains to halo Walt, picking out the soft blond hairs on his body, gilding him in gold and it is only because he has just woken up that Ray is being this gay about things.

"I'm going back to Iraq," Walt says diffidently; he's holding himself too stiff, though. Ray reaches out and presses his palm to the tense line of Walt's spine. Encouraging, maybe, or it's just too early in the morning for them to be having a crisis. Come back to bed, his touch might be saying, come back to me; Ray really doesn't know what he wants to be doing here.

"Going to make big bucks?" he says. "Oh my god, are you going to be my sugar daddy?"

The tension bleeds out of Walt's back as he huffs out an incredulous laugh.

"Yes, Ray, I'll be protecting rich Iraqi motherfuckers so that you, my Susie Rottencrotch back home, can live in the lap of luxury and eat peanut butter cookies every day till you get fat."

Walt is looking sidelong at him through his lashes now, a small smile playing about his lips. Ray obliges and sits up while squawking in indignation.

" _Fat_? Now, I'm not discriminatory like Rudy or anything but fat? You imagining a fine piece of ass like me - Walt, buddy, I don't think you're combat ready if you're going to be delusional like that."

"You're a skinny bitch, is what you are," Walt says, teasingly.

Ray launches himself at Walt, who goes down with a thump and narrowly misses braining himself on the chair tipped over next to their bed. Ray sits on Walt's chest with a shit-eating grin he knows looks pasted on, but Walt's watching him now, forearms twitching under Ray's calves and a full-grown adult smile on his face.

"I'll show you combat ready," he says, smiling, and bucks up, flipping them over and pinning Ray to underneath him, holding Ray's wrists in a loose grasp above his head.

Ray pauses, and thinks irrationally of the sight they must make - the only movement on a still Saturday morning in their bedroom, Walt curled over Ray; they breathe in syncopation, in anticipation of what is to come. Ray is hit by the sudden terrible urge to skate his hand over the arch of Walt's back, except Walt still has his hands captured and is looking down at him intensely, the smile no longer on his face.

"Hi," Ray says, tongue-in-cheek. Walt blinks, tongues the side of his mouth unconsciously and gives Ray a tiny grin. Ray is only _human_ , so he stretches up to catch that mouth with his, biting at Walt's lip and sliding his tongue past Walt's lips to run it along along the hard ridge of his palate. Walt shudders over him, like Ray knew he would, and collapses onto him; hips shifting together and they hiss into the space between their mouths at the rough catch of skin on sensitive skin, their tongues twisting together and sliding apart as they lazily retrace the crevasses and grooves of each other's mouths. "Walt," Ray says when Walt moves on to pressing open-mouthed kisses down his jawline, the column of his neck; he feels the rush of warm, moist air as Walt murmurs an indistinct question against his skin and hooks a leg around the back of Walt's knee. "Walt, _shit_ \- Walt, my hands."

Walt looks blurrily at him from his collarbone with a rough gasp, pupils blown wide and swallowing up the brilliant blue of his irises from the rhythm they've got going between them, short sharp jerks of their hips against each other. He releases Ray's hands obediently, trailing his fingers down Ray's inner arms, skin there tingling with sensation. Ray moans encouragingly and hauls Walt back up, cradles Walt's head in his hands while they kiss, wet and hot and urgent. Walt's got a hand splayed out against the back of Ray's neck as the other ghosts down his side. They rock against each other, frantically now, and "Fuck", Ray grunts, when Walt wraps his hand, warm and calloused around the both of them, rubbing his thumb over the head and under the crown of Ray's cock, smearing them both with his pre-come. It's less kissing than gasping rough and loud into each other's mouths now as Ray slides his leg up the back of Walt's thigh for better leverage; when Walt sucks hard on the soft patch of skin under his ear Ray curls into Walt, fingers pressing deep into Walt's shoulders and legs clenched around his waist as he judders against Walt, thrusting erratically into the tight circle of Walt's fist as he comes.

After a few moments of breathing heavily into a crown of sweaty blond hair Ray knocks Walt's hand away from where it's pumping furiously away at his cock with a breathless "I got it, baby", slides his palm sticky and slick with his come over the head of Walt's cock the way Walt likes it. It takes a few fast and vicious twists of his wrist and Ray mouthing "Come for me, babe, come on" as dirtily as he knows how to have Walt shuddering against him, and his breaths come in hot and wet moans that shape themselves around Ray's name against where Walt has his face buried against the side of Ray's neck.

They lie there in a pool of sunlight for a while, panting against each other before Walt rolls off him with a small sound of satisfaction to grab the baby wipes from the floor. Ray snickers while Walt cleans them off.

"Man, what you gonna do without my superior logistical planning in Iraq?"

Walt throws the wipe at his face and grins as Ray splutters.

"Make do, I guess," he says, and leans down.

 

 


End file.
